When I joined those hunters I thought all I would have to put up with was condescending remarks. But Orcs. We managed to shoot a single deer then walk straight into a troupe of Orcs.
I do not believe in the gods of Man, nor those of the Elves or Dwarves, but I also cannot chalk my lack of luck up to chance either. I must’ve angered some force to face orcs so frequently in one lifetime.
I had hoped that maybe Orcs were common in the area and I could just swiftly leave said area, but instead Radagast decided I needed to be emissary and convince an Elven king to give aide. An Elven king. Thranduil I believe his name was.
Us small folk don’t have royalty. Either way this king was a delight to meet, let alone converse with. Such extravagance to hide what can only be described as inertia.
My mother would have piqued to hear me (rather blatantly) insult a king’s land, populous, and honour. To his face. I shouldn’t have done it, but (for reasons out of my understanding) I apparently got through to him and he has agreed to send a trope of soldiers to protect the hunter’s town. I will be keeping my eye on the trees from long-limbed assailants for the foreseeable future regardless, just in case.
Well, these. . . mercenaries? that have accompanied King Thranduil’s forces are a surprising duo. A Dwarf and an Elf no less.
Though I suppose I have no where to stand as a lone Hobbit wandering so far from the Shire. Their friendship is refreshing though, they must have been through much together. It seems we’ll be travelling together for some time, in that time I wonder if they will value me as they do one another? perhaps I will be safe for that time.
Bless Elabrimborn and his long limbs, this swamp is not suitable for those of a reasonable height, I owe the Elf for carrying me through that place. The Dwarf Throrr is a boisterous fellow but certainly reliable in the continuous encounters we find ourselves in that involve Orcs, even if he is rather singularly focused on gathering trinkets and such treasure.
I must be mad for I still believe this is better than the shire.
I have been poisoned, chewed on and thoroughly terrified but I still dread encountering anymore family in this world.
Who knew my cousin Donidas would have fallen in with Bilbo Baggins and come so far to set up an inn for what can only feel as a specific attempt to remind me of how large my family is.
As if I needed reminding.